Hush
by crush.mode
Summary: Nothing fuels that hunger more than the sight of pale skin flushed a vivid pink, plush lips framing the shape of his name, more a rush of breath than actual sound. It made him tremble, made him ache.


Holy hell, sound the fucking alarm -- Tsu has finished something. _That isn't a drabble._ I know, I was pretty shocked myself.

Now, this has been sitting in my notebook since before Christmas, all but begging to be finished. And for a while, I'd fall into the groove, only to fall right the hell back out of it. Which, believe me, is more than just a little bit frustrating. Roughly _half_ of the stupid thing has been written over the past couple of days, and for the life of me, I'll never understand how I manage it -- to get something started so well, then let it sit, and practically pull my hair out for wanting to finish it, and then finish it all at once, without even a hint of trouble. _I don't get it_. But .. I suppose since it's finished, I can't complain. It took me long enough, that's all I'll say.

Let's see, what else? This was meant to be pure smut, solely to feed my addiction, and admittedly, it ends rather .. fluffily. (Yes, damn it, it's a word.) Do with that what you will, and enjoy it? Maybe just a little?

And as always, it's a sorta-kinda late-as-fuck birthday present for my love, my Kym. Since I'm a lazy fucker and haven't shipped her _actual_ present yet. (Also, _yes,_ Seifer, this can be your present too. Good grief.) His is two days before hers, y'know. It's kind of awesome.

_Muja oui, cfaadraynd. Always._

Standard disclaimers, as usual. I own not a damn thing. Which is irritating.

* * *

It was somewhere between two and three in the morning -- of that, Squall was certain, but the technicality of the exact time eluded him. It was late, and everyone that considered themselves a functioning member of society was asleep. Had been for a few hours, at _least_.

That simple fact was precisely the reason he was more than just a bit irritated by the knock that sounded on his bedroom door. It was soft, but persistent -- as though an overzealous woodpecker had seen fit to take up residence in the corridor _just_ outside his room. He groaned softly under his breath and threw the blanket back, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. _Someone had either be bleeding or _dead_._

The door hissed open and he glared, eyes narrowing in the soft glow of light from the hallway. "_What_?"

"Mornin', Princess. I was hoping you'd be up."

Seifer stood within arm's reach, a tiny, smug little grin plastered across his face as easily as if it belonged there -- and where anyone else was concerned, it _did_. The brunet's brows furrowed in confusion, and he almost forgot to be annoyed. _Almost_.

"It's kind of difficult to sleep through the amount of racket you were making. Now, what do you want?"

"Hyne, you're not normally this grumpy when you first wake up .." The blond pushed his way inside, angling himself directly toward the bed and flopping diagonally across the mattress. He stayed still for a bare few moments before making a show of making himself comfortable, rolling over onto his back and stretching out languidly, nearly taking up every bit of available space.

Squall just stared at him. ".. So .. ?"

Silence.

"Is someone dead?"

"Nope."

"Bleeding internally?"

The dismissive wave of a hand. "Uh-uh."

".. Did a grat bite you on the ass?"

"Hardly."

"Then what the hell do you _want_?" He leaned back against the door, arms folded across his chest. "Do you even know what time it is?"

Seifer shrugged, stretched again. "I know it's late enough that the only tavern in town is closed."

Dark blue-gray eyes narrowed once more. _That just might explain a few things_. "Are you drunk?"

"'Course not. How stupid do you think I am? Xu'd be able to tell just by _looking_ at me if I had a hangover in the morning." He paused, brows furrowing above jade green eyes focused on one particular spot in the blanket where a single thread had begun to separate from the rest of the fabric. "I'm .. buzzed, I guess you could say."

The brunet blinked. ".. Buzzed. What does that mean, exactly?"

"That everything is logical this early in the morning, obviously. C'mon, Princess. If you can't keep up with the rest of the class, I'm gonna have to keep you inside during recess."

Squall wondered, very briefly, if homicide was still illegal in Balamb, and what exactly the repercussions would be if it _was_ and he suddenly had a terrible lapse in judgement. He sighed, shook his head. There was no way he could risk something like that going on his permanent record. Not to mention that whole prison thing. The idea alone was unpleasant enough.

He shuffled back to the bed, nudged the sprawled blond gently with a knee to his side. "Move over, then. The concept of sleep should seem _quite_ logical if you think about it long enough."

Seifer chuckled low in the back of his throat. He stayed in precisely the same spot, moved only to tug that smaller body on top of his own with a sharp grin. "Who said anything about sleeping?"

"If you want to stay here, you're going to be quiet and least let _me_ sleep." The younger glared at him half-heartedly, mouth drawn into a mock-scowl as he settled himself as best he could, cheek pressed to the point just above the slow beat of the other's heart. He could be all right with this, so long as he complied.

They shared a bed as often as they could without raising suspicion, without facing inquiry as to why the blond was so often seen leaving this wing of the dormitory. It wasn't that either of them was ashamed of anything -- quite the contrary, Squall was quite content to belong to him, though he would never say as much in so many words. Seifer's ego was over-inflated enough, as it was.

He breathed a sigh, taking in the subtle scent of liquor each time the other exhaled -- _bourbon_, he decided, which surprised him a little. He'd always pegged him for the cheap, domestic beer type. _Wonders never cease_.

It was blissfully quiet save for the sounds of mingled breaths, the shift of fabric as an arm curled around a slender waist almost possessively. Squall felt himself drifting off again, until --

"Seifer."

The blond hummed softly in acknowledgement. "Hm?"

"Your hands are on my ass."

A firm squeeze, followed by a surprised purr of satisfaction. ".. Huh. I wonder how that happened?"

The brunet lifted his head and tried to glare through the darkness, quite unsuccessfully. "Nevermind how it happened. Kindly remove them and go to sleep, would you?"

Another squeeze. "No can do, Commander." Seifer laughed softly and dipped his head to nibble at the shell of an ear. "M'pretty sure they're stuck. We might have a problem."

The younger shivered involuntarily, leaned up to headbutt the underside of the blond's chin. "Seriously. I've got an early day tomorrow .." He trailed off as a hand slipped beneath the band of his sleep pants and squeezed again, this time nothing but soft, _bare_ skin. He swallowed thickly, tongue darting out to moisten suddenly dry lips. "Quit."

"No." The low chuckle came again, distinctly more dangerous than it had been previously as his other hand joined its twin beneath thin fabric. Squall shivered a second time at the feel of teeth scraping over the side of his throat, over the accelerating beat of his pulse and braced both hands against the other's chest in a half-hearted attempt to push himself away. "Quit it," he grumbled again, though the tone of his voice lacked conviction.

The only sound was that of a muffled growl, the subtle creak of bed springs as the blond flipped them over and pressed that slender body into the mattress with a roll of his hips that wrought a decidedly surprised but pleased sound from pout lips. Seifer smirked, rolled his hips again, and bit back a moan of his own when the sound came a second time, distinctly louder than the first.

"Still gonna tell me to stop, Princess?" He yelped at a sharp nip of the brunet's teeth to the side of his neck.

"No, but I'm going to tell you to stop calling me that." He leaned up a little further, nipped again at the spot just beneath his ear and relished the rumbling growl that followed. "Stop calling me that," came the soft press of his voice, bearing no hint of authority whatsoever despite its previous edge. The body above him only shuddered lightly and pressed closer.

"You'll be the death of me," he murmured against the cover of pale skin, lips soft as they framed an increasingly erratic pulse. Squall sighed, tipping his head to the side to invite more.

He didn't answer. He didn't _have_ to.

Calloused hands slipped beneath the thin fabric of the younger's white tank, blunt nails scratching over the hollow of his stomach, up over the protrusions of his ribs. Suddenly impatient to feel as much of that velvet skin beneath his fingers as he could, Seifer tugged until the brunet lay bare from the waist up; he tossed the offending material away with a scowl.

He dipped his head again, teeth scraping over the rise of a collarbone, tongue dipping into the hollow of his throat in such a slow, teasing motion that the body beneath him _squirmed_. He chuckled softly, hands smoothing over his sides almost soothingly. "You okay?"

The question had come so quietly, so _unexpectedly_ that it almost didn't register; Squall nodded with a muffled groan that caught in the back of his throat as the pad of the blond's thumb brushed over his nipple. "M'fine," he managed, and almost grimaced at the way his voice sounded to his own ears, just rough enough around the edges to give rise to the way his blood had heated, flushing his skin a vivid pink that he was thankful the other wouldn't be able to see in the darkness. He distracted himself by sliding his own hands beneath Seifer's shirt, fingertips dancing lightly over the rise of hipbones just above the band of his pants, etching invisible symbols with a thumbnail just beneath his navel. His smirk at the resulting deep rumble within the other's chest held just the faintest air of smugness, the faintest taste of pride.

It was something he'd found he'd picked up from the blond -- perhaps not in entirety, but he had surely been the catalyst; a sense of pride in himself that hadn't existed before, and if it had, it had been so deeply repressed that it had taken the whispered sounds falling from a normally sharp, knife-edged mouth, wrought solely from the touch of _his_ hands. Where before it had been the other's expertise, he'd begun to feel comfortable in his own skin, and it showed in the fluid roll of his hips as he arched upward, intent on hearing the hitch of breath that meant he was close to breaking.

Almasy brought out the worst in him, he'd once thought, but it wasn't _all_ bad beneath the weight of a warm body, the press of lips to the scar at his hip that boasted a hard-wrought battle that had meant nothing to them then. It wasn't _all_ bad when he felt the fabric of his sleep pants ghosting over his thighs in descent, the hard length of his cock resting against his belly.

It was _good_.

He shuddered as teasing fingertips grazed his length, just enough to be felt, nowhere near enough to satisfy. He arched subtly, fingers sifting through the short strands of gold at the base of the other's neck. "Tease," he mumbled, a curve to his mouth despite the tone of his voice.

Seifer grinned against the cover of his skin, teeth grazing the rise of a hipbone as his fingertips ghosted over the insides of his thighs. "Yeah? And?" The grin widened at the soft little growl that posed as a legitimate response, and he shifted just the slightest bit, tongue tracing the outline of his navel before dipping into the small indention. The brunet squirmed again, and he chuckled.

"You complaining?"

"I might start."

He tried to make himself sound convincing, he really did; the tremor in his voice, however slight, diminished any hope he may have had of remaining stoic. Aloof. Distinctly disinterested. When he felt the moist warmth of the blond's mouth envelope his cock, any hope of remaining _still_ slipped through trembling fingers and was lost beneath the exhalation of a shuddering moan that shook him to the very core.

"_Fuck_, Seifer .."

He thought he'd gotten used to the sound of his voice when he said the other's name -- how broken, how _vulnerable_ it made him sound. He wanted to hate it, but he could never really bring himself to. Not when the blond's tongue curled like _that_, bringing another sweet, soft moan from the very back of his throat, breath catching so sharply that it almost _hurt_, it felt so good. He bit his lip so hard he tasted the familiar taint of his own blood, and _something_ about that -- or it may have been the scrape of the other's teeth -- had him arching off the bed in such a way that his spine bowed nearly double. Slender fingers sifted through short strands of surprisingly soft hair, tugging just hard enough to get the other's attention. "_Hyne_ .."

Seifer lifted his head with one last seductive sweep of his tongue over hot, _hard_ flesh, a low growl beginning in the bottom of his chest and all but clawing at his throat as it slipped through parted lips. There was something to be said about the sound of the brunet's voice, so deliciously wanton and soft around the edges that it set his heart to racing, and a rather prominent part of him _relished_ the fact that only_he_ had heard it. Only _he_ had been able to see him like this, open and _writhing_, pale, flawless skin tinted a beautiful crimson from the flush of his arousal. It _did_ something to him that couldn't be put into words, couldn't be accurately conveyed in any way save for the trembling of his hands as he reached for him and pulled him tight against his chest, lips pressed to the side of his throat. "What do you want, babe?"

His own voice had lost its edge, reduced to naught but a low, rumbling press of whispered words against warm skin. He couldn't bring himself to put a voice to the way Squall captivated every part of him, wrapped slender fingers around the base of his faltering self-control and _pulled_, unraveling his composure fiber by precious fiber. He was coming undone, unhinged -- just by the ghost of a caress, lips pressed to the shell of an ear.

"You," the brunet murmured. "I want _you_."

The blond hissed a curse against his mouth, kissing him with a fierceness that had been lying just beneath the surface, _waiting_. He _growled_, not wanting to pull away from him long enough to reach into the little bedside table drawer, and doing so _only_ because if he didn't, he would lose himself completely. He felt around blindly until his fingers closed around a small, obscure bottle, and that tiny, smug smirk returned to the curve of his mouth.

Even through the darkness, Squall could feel it. That shift, that charge in the air as the blond sat back and popped the top of the bottle open, smoothing one hand over the inside of a bare thigh. He tried to keep still, and was only mildly surprised when he found that he had lifted himself just enough to slip his hands beneath the hem of the other's shirt, pushed the fabric up until he could pull it over his head and toss it away with an expression painting his features that mirrored the blond's earlier scowl with the same action. He leaned up, traced the line of a collarbone with the very tip of his tongue, the taste of his skin melding sharp and sweet in such a way that it made his head swim for wanting more. Fingertips skimmed over the outlines of muscle, dipping into the ridges between his ribs and lower, over the hollow of his stomach, coming to rest at the rise of his hipbones. Invisible symbols were sketched with the edge of a thumbnail, just above the band of his pants, and he all but purred at the resulting rumble deep within the other's chest, the way his hands trembled as they settled at his hips, unconsciously dragging him closer still. The brunet shifted again, pushed him back until he could straddle his hips and rocked deliberately against him, teeth finding the gash in his lip and digging in to suppress the needy little moan that threatened to betray him, given the chance.

Arms draped over broad shoulders, fingers curled around the back of the blond's neck and Squall pulled him down for another bruising kiss, teeth scraping. "Seifer, _please_ .."

He wasn't sure exactly what had made him say it -- whether it was to hear the other's breath hitch, the low, dangerous growl that followed, or the simplistic need in the pit of his stomach that _begged_ to be satisfied -- he couldn't find it in him to take it back, or even be embarrassed by the sound of his own voice, the way it trembled and broke on that whispered plea. _I need you, Hyne, I need you_ ..

Seifer's hands shook almost violently as he slicked two of his fingers, curling one hand over a slender hip to hold him still as he pressed against his entrance, lips framing his pulse, sucking lightly at his skin between his teeth. He forced his breathing to slow, measuring each careful inhalation as he slipped past the ring of muscle, deep into that tight, clenching heat.

It was good. _Hyne_, it was good. The brunet suppressed a whimper and rocked back against the invading digits, sending them deeper, nearly desperate for the pressure against that tiny little bundle of nerves that would set his skin aflame. He gasped against the other's shoulder, fingernails digging into the back of his neck nearly hard enough to break the skin, all but _clinging_ as he pressed a line of biting kisses up the side of his throat to his jaw. He nipped sharply, a growl beginning somewhere deep in his chest that morphed into a full-bodied moan as those wicked fingers nudged his prostate, just lightly enough to be felt, to make him _writhe_. His name came as a whisper, sounding as a delicious secret no one else could know.

"_Hyne_, Seifer .. _please_ .."

The blond gave a deep, shuddering groan against the side of his neck and added a third finger, massaging that tight little bundle in a silent apology for his haste, simultaneously lifting that lithe body to drag his zipper down and shove the fabric of his pants just low enough on his hips to allow him to move. Flicking his tongue over Squall's pulse, feeling how it picked up with each little touch, he thrust his fingers_deeper_ in one fluid motion, barely maintaining his progressively weakening hold on his composure at the sound of the muffled scream against his shoulder. The brunet bucked, teeth scraping over tight, corded muscle as he slipped a hand between their bodies and wrapped around the length of Seifer's cock, giving a single, slow stroke from base to tip.

His grin was feral as he pressed a deceptively soft kiss just above his pulse, drinking in the low, dangerous growl that threatened to break him. "I can tease too," he murmured against his skin, another slow, deliberate flex of his fingers paired with a roll of his hips to emphasize a whispered threat. He nipped sharply at his ear, every bit of patience stripped away by the touch of strong hands and a devilish mouth. "_Now_."

Something within the other snapped, shattered like tempered glass falling on concrete, the sound so sharp in the back of his mind that he was sure the brunet had heard it. He shifted, barely able to take the time to slick his length as he flipped their positions so that he covered that small, slender body with his own once more and rolled his hips, sheathed himself in tight, unyielding heat.

Squall hissed, wrapping long legs around the other's waist and dragging him closer, _deeper_ as his nails scored down the middle of his back. There would be marks, and later, he would be apologetic. _Later_. Now, the need burned so hot and bright at the base of his spine that he was sure it would burn him to a cinder right there. He arched against him, every muscle taut and straining beneath the surface of his skin. "Move," he growled. "For the love of Hyne, _move_."

Seifer never did as he was told. But hearing _that_, the heat in his voice, compelled him in a way that he couldn't place, couldn't _ignore_. All at once he withdrew until only the very tip of his cock remained inside, and thrust back in with an almost obscene roll of his hips that once more seated him fully within that hot, sweet body. One arm curled beneath his back, holding him tight against him as he lengthened his thrusts, relishing each whimper, each sharp intake of breath. "_Fuck_, Squall .."

He was coming apart. He could _feel_ it -- each languid movement that ground against his prostate, sending little shocks of pleasure skittering over raw nerves, each beat of the other's heart seeming in tune with his own thundering within his chest. He keened, high and sharp, head falling back against the pillow, the line of his throat beautifully exposed. It was a silent invitation, a plea for more.

The blond _growled_, leaned in low to scrape his teeth over his pulse-point, a teasing flick of his tongue to taste the salt of his skin -- and something cracked, something _vital_ as he buried his teeth at the junction of neck and shoulder, _feeling_ it give way, the flow of blood so thick and sweet that it should have disturbed him how much he relished it. How much he _craved_ it. Squall shuddered and arched beneath him, every muscle drawn tight and trembling as he came, breath caught, mouth fallen open in a silent scream. His lips framed the shape of the other's name, and Seifer raised his head to taste that, too, just as sweet and addictive as the taint of his blood on the back of his tongue.

Too soon, he was brought to the edge, a muffled growl against plush lips as his orgasm drew him beneath a wave of pleasure so intense that his consciousness threatened to fail him, a single coherent thought registering through the haze of mind-numbing bliss -- _Mine_.

_You are mine_.

The brunet fought for breath, the blood pounding in his ears defeaning compared to the otherwise dead silence of the room. He nuzzled the side of the other's neck, purring so deeply that he could feel it in the very center of his chest, more sensation than actual sound. It was this -- the warmth, the closeness -- that he relished the most. So completely wrapped up in him that for a moment, however fleeting, he could forget everything save for the feel of his skin, the taste of his kiss.

Seifer smiled against his mouth, soft and _real_. "Love you, kitten."

And _that_. The sound of his voice when he said it, nothing more than a murmur -- it was more real than he thought anything _could_ be, and it set his heart to racing all over again.

"Love you .."

_More than life_.


End file.
